


Naughty or Nice 2018

by AceintheSol



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 08:29:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17056343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceintheSol/pseuds/AceintheSol
Summary: A series of Christmas-y prompts for the FYCO Naughty or Nice event. Chapter 1: Logan visits Elias for Christmas





	Naughty or Nice 2018

The snow falls in fat flakes, catching in the hair his hat doesn't hide. He doesn't have long, has to meet up with the family for dinner in an hour or so, but...  _this_  is important, too. David and his girls can wait a little longer. A gust of wind comes screaming out of the north, and Logan buries his face even further into his scarf when it bites at his cheeks. Snow is rapidly collecting on the grass and by the time he gets where he's going it'll probably start icing over the footpath. Arlington hasn't changed much since the first time he saw it. It was warmer back then, in the dead of summer. Logan had been young enough that his dad had held his hand.

At the time it had scared him a little- there was some unspoken solemnity in the air that had left his skin crawling. Now he knows enough people sleeping here that it just makes him tired.

The wreaths are out for the season, pretty red ribbons on bright green boughs. When the snow finally covers all of the grass, the lively colors will break up the field of white. A mother passes him dragging two small children down the hill again, headed for the exit as her baby squalls angrily and the older girl natters away. Logan's scarred mouth pulls up into a smile behind navy fabric.

The hill gets a little steeper and Logan digs a little deeper in response. When he had first started coming, years and years after that first time, he'd had to count the rows. Back then he wasn't as sure of where he was going, but that was years ago.

When the time comes, he takes a sharp left and starts walking. Snow crunches under his feet as he steps off the increasingly damp path and onto the frozen ground. He stumbles over his own feet and the change in his coat pocket jingles; a few of his own friends are buried by his dad, and he wants to let a few still living know someone's kept the candle burning while they were away.

Hesh beat him here somehow. There's snow collecting on top of Elias' grave, but he can still see the white-capped head of David's favorite monopoly token from a little ways off.

Logan shuffles his frozen feet the last little bit to his destination, far enough out that the path is hardly visible in the distance. One gloved hand plucks the little metal dog off so the other can swipe the snow away before he sets it down. And then, for good measure, he sidesteps to the left and clears off Merrick's too. Just because it'd piss the old bastard off, if he was still around.

Or, more accurately, he'd do what Merrick always used to do and hide the fact that he was touched by being loud and seemingly aggressive.

Logan snorts, then pauses to watch the cloud of breath dissipate. There's a quarter on Merrick's headstone, and there's only one person it could be. He knows that neither he nor David will see Keegan around town, but he also knows that the one-legged sniper will be watching over them.

The dime sings into the quiet when he clacks it down next to the quarter, stacking it on top of his brother's somewhat pettily. When the wind blows again, just as angry and cold, Logan swears he can hear sleigh bells on it. Finally, he opens his mouth.

"She's a girl," he says softly, and out of everything  _that's_  what makes the hot coal rise in his throat, "We found out Tuesday."

It hangs in the air for a long minute as Logan swallows thickly.

"I didn't really understand, before." He has to mumble it out, eyes stinging with hot tears. "Thought I did, but... I think I get it now." His kid isn't even  _born_  yet, and if he's this torn up now he can't even imagine what it'll be like when she  _is_. When his phone buzzes quietly, reminding him that he's expected elsewhere and needs to cut things short, he reaches into his pocket again. Silent as the grave, Logan sets a plastic Stegosaurus opposite the dog on the marble slab.

"Merry Christmas, Dad."

The snow crunches under his worn boots as he walks away.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the short length, but I tried adding more and it just felt like I was only putting in bits of useless fluff. It wasn't even the good kind of fluff, so I promise you aren't missing out. Anyway, all my love to the FYCO community! I can't wait to get my grubby hands on some of those other prompts; I promise they won't all be bittersweet. (This is crossposted on FF.net if that's your preference)


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